


your love's like rhinestone's falling from the sky

by nightvile



Category: The Outsiders - All Media Types, The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Johnny can see ghosts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 14:28:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2113386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightvile/pseuds/nightvile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"How’d you die?"<br/>It wasn’t supposed to come out that harsh.</p><p>"Shit kid, i dunno. Look at me; how d’ya think I died?”</p><p>Johnny frowns, cocks an eyebrow.</p><p>"You look like the end result of a drive-by."<br/>He’s not wrong. The blond boy’s got holes dotting his front and blood splattering his shirt and jacket.</p><p>If Johnny was a lesser man he would’ve thrown up by now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	your love's like rhinestone's falling from the sky

**Author's Note:**

> **inspired by reid's nice art** : http://surqit.tumblr.com/post/89978837293

"How'd you die?"  
It wasn't supposed to come out that harsh.

"Shit kid, i dunno. _Look at me_ ; how d'ya think I died?"

Johnny frowns, cocks an eyebrow.

"You look like the end result of a drive-by."  
He's not wrong. The blond boy's got holes dotting his front and blood splattering his shirt and jacket.  
If Johnny was a lesser man he would've thrown up by now.  
The ghost scoffs.

"Was I right?"

"Close enough."

The conversation lulls (Johnny was never really great with keeping them up regardless if the other was living or deceased) and the duo look everywhere but each other.  
It's dark. The street's empty and If not for the flickering streetlights there'd be nothing lighting Johnny's way home. He wasn't even supposed to be here in the first place.  
Then again it's not like anyone's missing him at home.

"I'm sorry," he starts again, "i shouldn't've asked that."

"Does it look like I care kid?"

Yes.  
 _A lot, actually, considering I'm probably the first person you've talked to in years._

"Heard 'ts tough being dead." Johnny says, sitting down on the edge of the sidewalk and pulling a cigarette box out of his pocket.  
"Real lonely."

The blond stares at him like he came right out of hell. And maybe he did.

"The fuck even _are_ you?"

Johnny shrugs and gestures the pack to the dead boy after he takes one out for himself.

"Want one?"

He looks like he's about to protest. About to just get up and walk away ( _float away? dissipate? he's not exactly sure how ghosts move_ ), but he doesn't.  
He takes the pack and gets one for himself.

"Johnny," the younger one supplies.  
"Dallas," the other huffs back.

\----

Dallas' body is pale. Illuminating. Eyes closed, face lax, Johnny can see the light-as-air smoke filter through his mouth and into his lungs.  
He's heard rumors that ghosts can't feel anything after a certain amount of time.  
He guesses Dallas' already reached that limit because when he opens his pale eyes again there's no more gratitude but falling acceptance.

Still, for the sake of himself, maybe, and Johnny the teen exhales loudly and lays down on the cracked grey sidewalk. Johnny leans back too.

"y'know ghosts see themselves the way they last saw themselves before they died, right?" He takes another puff eventhough it does nothing (this time not even hiding his disappointment) and tosses the barely used cigarette into the street.

"Yeah." Johnny's only mildly disappointed by the waste.

"That means all the babies that die daily die ot even knowing what they fucking look like." _Really now?_

Horribly premature, lanky? Most likely connected to nothing but tubes and beeping machines?

 _'They're lucky'_ Johnny thinks then instantly regrets.

"Didn't know I signed up for a philosophy class."

"Man fuck philosophy," Dallas counters standing up, spitting on the sidewalk.  
'ts nothing but a load of _shit_."

_'Maybe that's why you're still here while everyone's passed on.'_

"Was that supposed to be a thought? Because I fucking heard it."

"Sorry," Johnny says automatically, "I didn't--"

" _Save it,_ kid," Dallas scoffs, "Bring some beer next time."  
He says something else but Johnny doesn't hear

"What?" he asks but Dallas already left( _abandoned? bailed out?_ ) without a trace.

He's sad, but also not.  
Keeps his promise when they meet again next week with a full stolen case.


End file.
